The Evident Sidekick
by ThisPeregrine
Summary: So basically everyone has a little extra in them, whether it be night-vision, accurate vocal imatation, perfect balance, or even teleportation. And when you gather these people at a summer camp for their kind, only chaos can ensue.
1. Lake Cross

The Evident Sidekick

1

Claire thought she ought to know the definition of mediocrity. She heard it frequently around her—spoken by her parents, teachers, friends, relatives…She'd never quite summed up the energy to actually find out the meaning of it. She didn't care much. At fifteen, who really needed to know such serious words? The only important words to her in the local vernacular were related to shopping, boys, and clever insults. Massie would probably know. Claire didn't really care much about that, either. Massie was smarter than her ("given!" Alicia would cheerfully point out) and prettier than her and better than her. Massie also had a much better extra. An extra, as Kristen would intelligently describe it in her scientific gibberish, was a supernatural ability, a dominant gene, which manifests in one half the population at the age of thirteen.

Yes, only fifty percent of the population had an extra. It used to be only 0.00002 percent of the population had an extra, back when extras were undiscovered. It was human evolution that pushed this small percentage to a significant portion of the world's occupants.

Extras were usually extremely useless. Claire knew a girl who could jump five feet high. A teacher who taught at her school knew people's names before he'd even heard of or met them. Her best friend Layne could communicate with squirrels. But then again, there were the extremely useful extras too. A few people were lucky. Claire knew a boy who lived near her who could run faster than a speeding car. And her second cousin twice removed could speak any language fluently after hearing only a few words of the particular dialect.

Claire wasn't one of those lucky ones. Claire was very well balanced. After the manifestation of her extra, she never once fell. She could stand on one toe on top of a slippery soccer ball and not fall. She could walk across a thin piece of rope tied from one building to the other and make it out alive—without even trying. It seemed pretty cool. But not compared to Massie's extra.

Massie could control clouds. Sounds pretty lame, right? Wrong. She pretty much controlled the weather. Whenever dark clouds moved in on Westchester, Massie could send them away. She also could ride clouds, though Claire laughed at her when she first announced it. Massie explained that she once compressed a cumulus with a cirrus and a whole bunches of altostratus's to make a solid cloud, just big enough for her to fit on. She somehow isolated it from the rain cycle so it wouldn't ever disappear. It just floated in tentative circles around Westchester. Whenever she beckoned to it, it would come. It didn't have a mind, it was just a cloud, but she named it anyways (she named it Nine, like Cloud Nine) and grew uncannily attached to it.

Claire had once ridden Nine with her. It was only mildly terrifying.

There wasn't much mediocre about Claire's life, anyway, even though she'd heard it many times. Especially today, because today was the day she went to Lake Cross.

Lake Cross was a summer camp that all kids with extras had to attend every summer from when their extra manifested to when they turned seventeen.

Basically, it was a government-operated camp to train extra-enabled children to control their extras. Claire hated it with a burning passion.

There was nothing campy about it. There were no bonfires or games or swimming lessons. There was a cold, algae-infested lake and mean, bitter counselors, and indoor lectures. She attended it with her best friends, but that was no reconciliation.

"Claire, you ready?" Her mother stood in the doorway now, looking warily at her half-packed luggage.

"Nearly," Claire answered, tossing in clothes and books carelessly. She could hardly wait for her seventeenth birthday.

2

"I wanted to go to Hawaii," Dylan moaned. Her duffel was slung over her bare, sunburned shoulder, and she stood, unmoving, in the camp parking lot stubbornly, like a child unwilling to go to school.

"It'll be fun!" Kristen offered optimistically. "There's good food," she added.

Dylan sighed forlornly and followed her friends, only somewhat reluctantly, since the mention of the camps renowned menus had perked her mood a little.

Massie led the group to Cabin 8, the cabin they'd shared for two summers together. She glanced upward, surveying the skies. A cloudless day—her least favorite kind of day. There was one cloud hovering almost sulkily in the clear sky. It was nine of course, whom she'd ordered to follow her to Algonquin Park, where the camp was situated. She made a mental note to take a quick evening ride on Nine later.

"I can't believe we're old enough to be co-ed," Alicia whispered excitedly. "I feel so powerful as a third-year camper."

"There's nothing powerful about having to wake up, bare-faced and groggy, beside a guy," Massie pointed out coolly. "I think the whole co-ed thing is totally inappropriate. Especially for a government run camp."

"Maybe Dempsey will be in our cabin though," Kristen chimed in, and in a low voice she added deviously, "wouldn't be so bad waking up near him…"

Dempsey was Claire's neighbor, the boy who could outrun a car. The camp director and all the counselors adored Dempsey and his incredible extra.

Massie snorted in disgust. "If that narcissistic loser is in our cabin, I'll ride Nine back to New York."

Claire, Dylan, and Alicia giggled, while Kristen glared.

"He's only conceited because of his extra," she insisted. "He's actually a cool guy."

Kristen had met him once and had exchanged mundane small talk with him at a charity fundraiser. She'd been obsessed ever since.

"I just hope Derrick won't be in our cabin," Massie said. Derrick was Massie's "camp boyfriend". He lived in Saskatchewan, so Derrick didn't know about Massie's "School boyfriend", Kemp, who was not an extra, and spent his summers vacationing in France.

"It would be really awkward if he checked the cabin mailbox one day to find six, thick love letters from addressed to me from France." Massie giggled.

The girls mounted the rustic, wooden staircase that led to cabin 8. Grunting at the steep incline, which made their duffel bags seem twice as heavy.

When they entered the cabin, they found two strangers. One was a petite girl with curly brown hair and thick, dark rimmed glasses. She sat on a bottom bunk, engrossed in a book. The second stranger was a tall, lanky boy with black hair and pale skin.

Awkward introductions were exchanged while the girls settled in.

The cute, curly haired girl was named Nikki. She lived in Toronto and she was a third-year camper. The boy was Landon, from Seattle. He was a fourth-year camper, but he had only recently transferred from a different extra camp in Washington. Nikki had to leave her extra camp in Toronto because some idiot who could control wind had blown the place to pieces in a horrific tornado.

People began to trickle in as the girls unpacked. There were eleven campers to each cabin and one counselor.

A boy the girls recognized to be Chris Plovert strolled in wearing a sheepish grin. Dylan threw herself on him in her excitement. Chris was Dylan's not-official-but-they're-so-cute-together-who-really-cares boyfriend from Iowa. They had only kept in contact during the year via Skype and Facebook, so the dramatic reaction to his entrance wasn't frowned upon.

Layne walked in, catching Claire's attention. Following her was Olivia, Alicia's friend and confidant. She smiled brightly at the occupants of the room. Kristen, Dylan and Massie leered back.

The counselor marched in. It was a boy, who must've just graduated from university. University graduates projected a certain air of accomplishment, melancholy regret, and snobby arrogance, Massie thought.

"I'm Chad, but you can call me sir," he announced. He wasn't smiling. Counselors usually didn't small at Lake Cross, unless someone had fallen down or cliff or choked on their food. And they never laughed.

"Okay Chad," Chris said.

Chad ignored him, and continued. "Welcome back, third-year and fourth-year campers. It is government regulation that I explain to you the new law being passed at this establishment." He didn't look happy about the news he was about to deliver. "The government, after thousands of extremely persuasive and influential complaint letters, has decided that anyone fifteen years of age or older does not have to attend this summer camp."

A collective cheer followed. Dylan screamed, "HAWAII!" at the top of her lungs, and Nikki began applauding enthusiastically.

"IF"—Chad continued grimly, cutting the noise abruptly, "you prove yourself responsible with your extra. That means no slip-ups this summer. If you want to make this your last year, then you better act like an adult."

Massie and Claire exchanged looks. Lake Cross was their place to act out. It was the place to release academic related stress and to make mistakes and be a total, careless idiot. Being mature and responsible was not something they did at Lake Cross. It was something they mocked.

"See that chart, there?" Chad pointed to a large, white whiteboard mounted near the doorway to his bedroom. "That's a demerit point chart. When you do something bad, I record it. If you exceed ten points, you're coming back next year."

Massie let out a relieved breath. Ten points? Who could exceed that limit?

"Most misdemeanors earn you at least two points," Chad added. "Things like speaking down to a counselor not being on time in the dining hall for role call will earn you two. Being out after dark without a permit is three. Anything worse, our board of punishment will decide how many points you deserve." He started towards his bedroom and stopped at the door. "I'll be watching," he said. He almost smiled. Then he disappeared into his room.

In the grim silence, someone walked into the cabin, catching everyone's attention.

It was Dempsey.

He took the last remaining spot, the single bed in the corner, without saying a word.

"Oh great," Chris said sarcastically. "It's you."

"Yup, it's me." Dempsey wasn't facing them. He was carefully stacking his folded shirts in the rickety shelf beside his bed. Massie felt some misplaced sympathy for him for a moment. Then it passed.

"I'm glad you've decided to grace our cabin with your presence," she said dryly. "I thought your privileges here would at least grant you a bed right beside the director."

"He offered," Dempsey said, and Massie knew it was a joke but his voice was dead serious. "I turned him down. I told him I'd rather be with the bottom feeders. It's nice once in a while to spend time with the needy."

Massie's face went bright red. "I'd choose your words carefully if I were you," she retorted hotly. "There's ten of us "bottom feeders" and one of you. What does that sound like to you?"

"An unfair fight for your side," he replied flatly.

"Ha!" Massie barked. "What are you going to do, smother us to death with your arrogance?"

Finally, Dempsey turned around to face his opponent. In a quarter of a second, he was standing directly in front of Massie. She'd seen him do it before, so it shouldn't have surprised her. But it did, much to his satisfaction.

"Actually, I was thinking I'd run you into a brick wall at 200 miles per hour," he said darkly.

Then he turned and walked slowly back to his bed.

The counselor door swung open, and Chad emerged. "What's the trouble? I heard a dispute."

He saw Dempsey and his face lit up. "Dempsey!" He cried, then remembered his dignity, and cleared his throat. "Good to see you."

"Same to you, Chad." Dempsey smiled.

The two of them disappeared into the counselor's room, chatting happily. Dempsey flashed Massie a cocky grin over his shoulder as he shut the door behind him.

3

"I still think he's cool," Kristen said stubbornly that afternoon in the dining hall. Massie, Dylan and Kristen sat together at a secluded table in the corner. Claire was off spending quality time with Layne and Cam, and Alicia was with Olivia.

Massie didn't understand Kristen. Dempsey had insulted them harshly, and then threatened to kill her. What was so cool about that?

"I think all those memories are stripping you of your common sense," Massie said sharply. Kristen had a perfect memory. She remembered every detail of everything. You could walk into a store with her and she could recount every detail of the store, even if she hadn't really been looking around. She remembered insignificant conversations from two years back word-for-word. It was truly impressive, but for some reason mental powers were never as impressive as physical ones.

Kristen stiffened. "You hate him because he's the center of attention. You probably wish you had an extra like his."

It was true, but Massie would never admit to it. "Whatever," she said dismissively.

"I think he's just going to draw a whole crowd of girls to our cabin every day. It'll be annoying," Dylan said. "He has like six girlfriends every summer, and they know about each other. He obviously isn't a believer in monogamy."

"Told you he's no good," Massie said in a singsong voice as she stood to collect the dishes on their table.

"Kristen," Dylan said, in a spot-on imitation of Dempsey's voice, "I am too much of a jerk to have you."

Kristen cackled, despite the underlying insult directed at her lover.

Dylan's extra was vocal imitation. She imitated any voice with perfect accuracy. Massie had suggested she enter a singing contest using Beyonce's angelic voice, and Dylan had made it to the finals. Then a spiteful competitor had told the judges that Dylan was using her extra to win, and she'd been disqualified.

"Hey." Claire had her arm linked with Cam's. "You up for sneaking down to the lake tonight?"

It was a tradition for them to sneak down to the lake at midnight every first day of camp. Only now, with the daunting demerit point system and all, it seemed like a recipe for disaster.

Cam usually led them through the forest with his phenomenal night vision. His extra was certainly not useless. He could see perfectly in pitch-blackness, his vision was better when it was dark then it was during the day, and somehow Massie thought this might help him land some obscure profession later in his life.

"We'll be careful," Cam promised, catching Massie's hesitant look.

"Yeah," Claire agreed. "We'll be super quiet."

Massie sighed. "Somehow I think this won't work out."

"It will," Cam insisted. "Just wait."

Massie hoped fervently that he was right.

4

Someone was following them.

Massie knew.

Quiet footsteps, yes. But they were present.

Cam assured her he couldn't see anyone behind them. She knew he was only tolerating her wary, paranoid behavior because she was Claire's friend. Oh yeah, she'd heard of and witnessed Cam's colossal impatience…

When they arrived at the dock, Massie was nearly trembling with anticipation.

"Massie, what's the matter?" Claire whispered, concern filling her blue eyes.

"Someone's following us…" she answered ominously.

Cam had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes.

But Massie was right. Because right then Dempsey, smug and triumphant, emerged from the trees.

"Gotcha!" he declared.

Claire let out a little surprised yelp. Cam simply looked astonished—and impressed.

"I knew you were up to something." Dempsey grinned deviously. "I was right. You're not supposed to even swim in this lake. There's too much bateria."

"Oh and your so concerned for our health," Massie spat. "Get a life, Narcissus."

"I'm just doing my job. Chad assigned me as the cabin watchdog. I'm just protecting my people."

"Don't ever call us "_your_ people"," Massie hissed. "You may only refer to us as "_your _enemies".

"No hard feelings when I turn you in, right?" Dempsey asked, feigning concern. "I mean, I guess it'll be about seven demerit points for being out after curfew without a guide or a light, and seven for trying to swim in this lake, but that ain't so bad. Hey, Cam, maybe you and Massie can stay in the isolation cabin for the rest of summer and your cute little girlfriend here can stay with me. No need to waste a useful bed though, she can stay in mine!"

Cam lunged at Dempsey.

It went downhill and downhill fast from there.

Dempsey was fast, sure, but it was nearly pitch black. God knows how Dempsey managed to follow them so diligently without falling into a hole.

Cam was on top of him and bashing him before Dempsey could finish his choked, "get the hell away from me!"

Massie and Claire stood there, shocked into motionless.

Massie could smell blood.

She jumped on Cam and tore him off her enemy, noting the irony numbly.

Dempsey didn't seem to be conscious, but then he was on his feet, with a horrible vengeful look on his face.

Faster then speed itself, it seemed, he rammed his weight into the three of them. They plunged into the icy water and surfaced quickly, sputtering water and holding onto each other.

Cam was staring up at the dock.

"What?" Massie asked.

Dempsey was standing there, smiling. "Oh no, you wanted to swim, you'll get your swim. You're not coming out of this water."

Massie swallowed. "Dempsey you're taking this a little too far. I can't"—she choked back tears, "I'm not a good swimmer."

She was already feeling weak in fact.

"If you try and swim to shore, I'll be there to fend you off. You are not coming to shore." He looked at Claire earnestly. "Except you, Claire, you can come out anytime you like, as long as you promise to ditch your nocturnal boyfriend here and be with me." He flashed a cocky grin.

Cam was fuming, but was out of breath, and didn't retaliate.

"Claire, Cam," Massie said. She jerked her head up at the dark sky. Nine was in the distant sky, waiting to be their rescuer.

They started swimming out to the center of the lake.

Dempsey wasn't aware of Massie's little cloud trick, or he probably would've swam out and foiled their plan.

"Swimming to the other side of the lake won't help!" he called after them, chuckling.

Slowly, Massie willed Nine towards them as they swam.

When they'd reached the center, the cloud was directly above them. Massie pulled herself up and helped her friends aboard. Nine was only about the size of a small sled, but she figured they could reach land.

Dempsey was speechless on the dock.

They rose into the air, above Dempsey, very high, until they could see the roofs of all the cabins.

"Fine!" Dempsey shouted, accepting his defeat. "Next time you won't be so lucky!"

Massie practically hugged Nine in relief.

They were all breathing heavily and raggedly.

"This is so cool," Cam whispered, awed.

They hovered towards the shore.

Suddenly, a bright light caught their attention.

It was coming from the office building—a searchlight.

"He's already snitched?" Cam demanded angrily.

Massie was frightened. Their descent would be long and slow. The light would find them.

She was panicky, and that didn't bode well while riding Nine.

The cloud wasn't solid anymore.

They screamed and plummeted towards the earth.

Nine floated there stupidly.

They smashed headfirst into the lake, sinking several feet deep. When they resurfaced, they thrashed their way desperately towards the dock.

Massie cried out when she saw Dempsey sitting on the dock happily, kicking his legs back and forth like a child watching sea life.

"Back in time for the finale," he told them. "The little cloud trick was quite unexpected, I must say, Massie. I had to alert the authorities since you were using your extra in a dangerous way. And breaking curfew. But I'm back in time to watch you meet your well-deserved demise."

"Claire? Take me up on my offer. I'll be a better boyfriend then Cam can ever be," Dempsey prompted.

"Screw off," Cam growled.

Dempsey laughed. "You're in no position to"—and then there was a satisfying splash. Dempsey shouted profanity when he surfaced.

It was Landon who stood on the dock, smirking. He had kicked their enemy into the water.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Landon," he replied, looking down at Dempsey with a cheerful satisfaction.

"Do you think you can just kick me into the water and not see the consequences?"

"Yes." Landon grinned.

Dempsey pulled himself out of the water. "I think it's time you join your friends in the water," he said through clenched teeth, reaching for Landon's arm.

And just like that, Landon disappeared.

Dempsey gasped.

Massie wanted to be amused and relieved, but she was struggling to tread water.

She beckoned to Nine. But it would be too late before Nine arrived.

There was someone treading water behind her, even though she saw Claire and Cam directly in front of her.

She turned to see Landon, smiling.

"How?" she tried.

"Teleportation," he whispered. He slung her arm over his shoulder. "You're first."

Then, her feet were touching solid ground. She collapsed, grateful and relieved.

"Thank you," she breathed.

"No problem."

She looked up to smile at her rescuer, but he had disappeared. Moments later, he returned with Claire and Cam.

They too crumpled and embraced the forest floor.

After thank you's had been delivered, Landon said he had to go back, and he disappeared noiselessly.

The three exchanged bewildered looks.

"His extra is the best I've seen—or even heard of," Cam said, awed.

"And he saved us," Claire added distantly.

They lay there for several minutes, talking about the rescue, and about what a huge dick Dempsey was, and how he had tried to drown them.

"Suddenly Lake Cross seems a little dangerous," Massie said thoughtfully.

And of course, Dempsey chose that moment to arrive, soaking wet, and extremely angry. "You know that promise I made about my slamming you into a brick wall at 200 miles per hour?" he said to Massie, yanking her up by the collar of her shirt. "I'm about to fulfill that promise."

…..


	2. Teleportation

1

Was it pathetic to secretly wish Landon would appear (quite literally) yet again and come to her rescue? No.

But was it desperate to scream his name relentlessly while Dempsey dragged her through the forest—high-speed—and her tired, weak friends watched helplessly? Maybe.

"No one has ever done that." Dempsey was mumbling to himself, as any powerful, self-important person does when their plans have been foiled and they've been humiliated. "Why is he even here?"

Massie struggled feebly in his adamant grip. "Dempsey, we didn't mean anything by it. Just let me go. Besides, there aren't any available brick walls to ram me against," she added pleadingly.

"I'm not going to do _that_," Dempsey assured her in a sneer, then admitting, "I need to drag you around the camp screaming until _he _comes to your rescue. Then I'll find a brick wall, and it won't be you that gets rammed into it." He glowered meanly. "Though god knows you deserve it too," he mumbled under his breath.

So I'm the shiny object, Massie thought nervously, I'm the thing that attracts Landon, brings him right into Dempsey's bloodthirsty hands.

"He was just helping," she insisted, thrashing wildly in her captor's arms.

"Not me," Dempsey answered bitterly. "Someone with his ability should be by _my _side, not with…" he trailed off, embarrassed. "I'll teach him a thing or two. I don't even care where you go. Just scream some more. He probably can't hear you yet."

"_No_!" Massie cried, kicking at him angrily.

Dempsey tightened his grip on her wrists and bent down so that his expressionless face was inches from hers. "I can make you," he offered, nearly cutting off the circulation in her hands with his horrible, iron grip.

"I won't play your games!" she hissed. _Cam, Claire?_ She wondered silently. _Help?_

But in her realist's mind, Massie knew even if they summed up the energy to sprint after her, they wouldn't be able to do much. Sure, Cam could navigate his way through the darkness, and Claire wouldn't fall on the way there, but what would that accomplish?

When they arrived, Dempsey would flick them out of consciousness without exerting an effort, hardly. She could tell he was in an impatient mood. If an interloper interrupted, inserted themselves into these intimate matters, Dempsey would shut them up before they could say, "What's going on?"

Landon was not considered an interloper in Dempsey's mind. His was prey. Or maybe he was the predator, chasing a superior prey. Because Dempsey was the anxious one, waiting for Landon to strike. Landon could be anywhere. Landon was the one watching.

Massie glanced upwards at the cloudless sky, searching for Nine.

Dempsey slapped her—hard—across the cheek, sending her eyes, now blurred with tears, staring back down at the dirt.

"None of that cloud crap," he said darkly. Dempsey knew at that moment that Landon was not among them in the dark somewhere, strategically planning the best way to attack. After the slap he would've sprung from the bushes, surging with hatred and anger, and Dempsey would've had the upper hand in the fight. Dempsey didn't know a lot about people, but he did when it came to anger and fighting.

"You're horrible," Massie said flatly.

"You think?" Dempsey replied conversationally. "Thank you."

2

Presently, Landon was nowhere near Massie and her captor. He was behind cabin 19, vomiting blood.

His extra didn't come without its negatives. After one long distance teleport, he would spend the next hour lying on the ground, writhing in pain. After several short distance teleports, he would throw up blood for about fifteen minutes, then endure the rest of his waking hours with a fierce, pounding migraine headache.

After he had finished, he'd sat down (not in his vomit, though) and thought about how stupid it was to piss of Dempsey.

He concluded it was worth it.

He knew Dempsey wasn't evil enough to actually drown people (right?), but even joking around like that, in that sadistic way was not okay.

He'd heard the commotion while sleeping lightly. In his light-sleep dream, he was with his long ago deceased mother, sharing a cup of tea with her on a white patio overlooking a beach. He'd heard the screams and the splashes and most of all the sadistic laughter, and his mother had laughed quietly and said, "Ignore the neighbors."

He had bolted upright in bed, scrambling around blindly in the dark for proper clothes. Then he had been at the dock without even thinking about it. He decided if today was a particularly impulsive day, he might as well shove Dempsey into the lake as well.

While Landon pondered his strange dream, and his resentment for Dempsey, he listened for more trouble out in the woods.

It was stupid to leave those three in that meadow near the lake. But he couldn't have gone any farther with them. Teleporting them back to the cabin would've made him faint. He had left so hastily because the overwhelming "blood-vomiting" urge had overcome him. He hadn't thought then that Dempsey would continue with his benign ways after being pushed into a lake. At least he thought Dempsey would hold off till the morning. But then again, what closet-villain does his work in the bright, revealing daylight?

Landon decided he should check on them. He didn't doubt Cam's ability to navigate them back, but he did doubt Dempsey's moral scruples.

3

Kemp boarded the midnight bus with a bright smile on his face.

"You look like you just won the lottery," the bus driver commented mildly. The bus driver had the red-eye shift, and his cheery new passenger didn't make it at all more bearable.

"Better," Kemp said, unable to control his happiness. He sat in the back of the bus, luggage rested on his lap, and whistled tunelessly, watching the dark farms and forests pass by without much interest.

He was busy imagining up what his conversation with his girlfriend, Massie would be like when he arrived at Lake Cross:

"So Massie, you know how you treat me inadequately just because I don't have an extra?"

"Yes?" Massie would say suspiciously. Oh how he loved her suspicion.

"Well, you can't treat me that way anymore!" Kemp would cry happily.

Massie would look very perplexed. Then, after a moment of contemplation, she would realize it. Oh how he loved her quick-wit!

He sighed happily. This was certainly going to be a better summer than those spent with Grandma Marie in Bordeaux.

"Zere ees zo much excitement in Bordeaux, Kemp!" Grandma Marie had told him over the phone the day before (in her atrociously snooty French accent), when he'd happily phoned her to deliver the good news. "What ees zere in zees Lake Cross?"

"There's just as much excitement," he'd replied evenly.

Grandma Marie had made an odd snorting noise of disapproval. "Well, ne boit pas l'alcool la bas mon cher," she'd advised him wisely, momentarily forgetting she was speaking to an American.

"Um, okay," Kemp had said unsurely, hanging up. He'd thought it was some wise morsel of information regarding people with extras and how dangerous they were.

Really, she was just concerned about him drinking too much beer at camp, though she would've been wise to worry for quite different reasons…

3

When Landon finally did arrive, Massie had somehow run out of fear. She'd become impatient and exasperated.

Massie and Dempsey had sat down and were currently chatting casually about which counselors they liked the best when Landon arrived.

Then things were back to business as usual.

"Landon!" Dempsey stared meanly, standing up to his full, unimpressive height of 5'7 (compared to Landon's very impressive 6'3)

"Seriously?" Landon looked tired and annoyed. "Are you finished? Can I take her back now?"

Dempsey was a little miffed at Landon's tired approach to the situation. "You'll have to fight for"—

"Shut up," Landon said, and surprisingly, he silenced him.

Landon walked lazily over to Massie grabbed her arm, and shot a bored expression Dempsey's way. "I didn't come to this camp to have stupid play fights with you," he said, and he and Massie disappeared.

Dempsey stood there for a long, self-evaluating moment. He felt he'd lost part of his authority in that particular encounter. He didn't care much. He'd eventually get it back.

4

The next day Derrick questioned the cuts and bruises on Massie's arms and legs.

Massie was glad her "camp boyfriend" was relatively powerful, powerful enough to scare Dempsey off doing his stupid bitter, meaningful glares directed at Massie.

Derrick was a hydrokinetic (a person who can manipulate water with their mind).

It was powerful enough if they were near a large body of water, which they were.

"Dempsey totally kidnapped us last night," Massie complained to him quietly during rest hour. "I almost drowned!"

"That prick!" Derrick declared furiously. "He's insane!"

"Landon saved me," Massie added, quietly, and Derrick stiffened.

"Landon? That new kid? The freakishly tall kid with the shaggy black hair?"

"He's not freakishly tall," Massie said defensively.

Truthfully, Derrick was jealous, and the fact that Landon had an entire half a foot over him just made him angrier and more jealous.

"I just wish you'd been there to save me," Massie said hastily, catching Derrick's obvious jealousy. "I mean, you obviously could've rescued us if we were in water!" She smiled admiringly at him.

"Obviously," he echoed distantly, not paying attention to her anymore. He really detested Landon now. What a loser, going about rescuing _his _girlfriend. Couldn't he have woken him up first to ask permission? It seemed logical to Derrick. Then again, he wasn't very bright.

"Just take care of Dempsey, okay?" Massie asked sweetly. "Make sure he doesn't do anything rash again. And maybe hang around Landon a little bit. It looks like he could use the protection now that Dempsey's hell-bent on ramming him into a"—

Claire burst into cabin 8. "Massie. Come here now." She was out again before Massie could ask what was wrong.

Massie and Derrick emerged from cabin 8, hands entwined, confused, worried expressions on their faces.

A lot of things happened at once.

Kemp stood there, optimistic smile, luggage in hand.

Massie registered his presence at the camp—the camp for kids with extras—, which meant he was an extra—and gasped.

Derrick registered the pretty boy with the neatly combed light hair and the sparking green eyes and went into fatal-jealousy mode.

Kemp saw Massie's and the mysterious blond boy's hands entwined and dropped his luggage.

Landon was there too, so were Claire, Cam and Nikki, and they watched the unraveling drama with slack jaws.

It was hard to say who took the first punch and who delivered it, but it didn't much matter once the two boys hit the ground, grappling for each other's necks.


	3. Multiple Lovers

Author's Note: A word to the wise: If you are currently reading both the supers sequel story and this one, STOP. Take it one at a time. The characters in the two stories go under the same names and appearances but have contrasting personalities and positions in the story. It will confuse you beyond belief since Kemp is the sweet, forgiving lover in this one and a volatile, slightly insane villain in the other, and many more circumstances of the sort…

1

When a not-so-clever hydokenetic and a slightly diabolical genius who can communicate with the avian species hit the ground tumbling, the outcome can be pretty unpredictable.

For one thing, let's consider the factor of a third party. Landon, who currently watches the battle with wide eyes and a passive position, will not intervene. Nikki, who can sense moods, had her head filled with wild, almost painful emotions, and was neither of sufficient size nor bravery to interrupt a fight. Claire was standing, mouth gaping, grasping Cam's shoulder and silently thanking god that she had a stable relationship. Cam was the most likely to stop the fight short, since Derrick was his friend and Kemp was an asshat. He was biased though, and he would probably want to beat Kemp down a little before assuming the position of the Good Samaritan who stops the fight. Massie was simply astonished and not in any mental (or physical, for that matter) state to push her two boyfriends away from each other. And so the fight ensued until an authority arrived on scene.

It just happened to be Chad.

"What the heck is happening out here?" he demanded furiously, stomping out of cabin 8, red faced and shirtless.

He yanked Derrick off poor inferior Kemp, who had been doing a great deal of wincing and hardly anything else while Derrick pounded him.

"You okay, buddy?" Chad awkwardly assisted Kemp while Massie and Derrick had a silent glare contest. There were a lot of emotions passing around. Nikki broke off in a sprint towards the lake, overwhelmed.

"What the heck is your problem?" Chad had been watching (and coveting) 90210 in his private bedroom, munching on cheese sticks when these scoundrels had interrupted his down time. And at the climatic point of the season finale too!

He gave Derrick a light shove. "That's 7 points for horseplay, you."

"And how about 10 points to Massie for infidelity!" Kemp declared angrily, then regretted it seconds later.

Chad didn't understand. "No, she already has 9 points from last night. We'll wait a few more hours before issuing anymore points." He sighed. "Though god knows they're all well deserved."

Massie lowered her head shamefully.

"I don't care what this is about," Chad concluded. "But don't go near each other again. And you, blondie, next time beat on a kid who's worth the fight," he added, scrutinizing Derrick's unworthy opponent with disdain. He turned and retreated to the cabin.

"You jerk!" Derrick cried. Massie flinched.

"Massie, I can't believe you!" Kemp chimed in, stomping his foot. His neatly combed hair was now disheveled. His crisp button up was rumpled and bloodstained.

"I'm—I'm sorry!" Massie cried, and hurried off in the other direction.

Claire followed, grimacing at Massie's two men apologetically before doing so.

"Well that was fun," Landon said after a thick silence.

The group dispersed.

Landon headed towards the lake to catch up with Massie and attempt to comfort her. He hated east-side Americans. Drama followed them around like their shadows.

"Hey there buddy!" A sarcastically enthusiastic voice called after him.

Landon groaned and turned. "Hi, Dempsey."

"That wasn't so great, eh?" Dempsey smirked, jerking his thumb back towards cabin 8. "But I guess it was her fault."

"Leave me alone, Dempsey." Landon turned and headed off again.

Dempsey caught his shoulder. "Not so fast, Landon."

Landon turned, grim-faced, and sighed. "What is it you want?"

"Why are you here?" Dempsey asked flatly. He had dropped the enthusiasm pretense.

"I have to be. It's not a choice, thank you."

"Well there's several extra-camps on the west coast…why Lake Cross?"

"No particular reason." Landon scuffed the ground with his black converse heels.

Dempsey glared and lowered his voice conspiringly. "There's something you're keeping from everyone. I'm eager to find out what."

"Um, can we not do the whole "enemies" thing?" Landon crossed his arms over his chest. "I just want to finish the summer and be done with these stupid camps. I don't want us fighting or anything, you know, earning demerit points."

Dempsey laughed darkly. "Well. I may not be able to accommodate that." He walked off slowly, throwing a glance over his shoulder at Landon—he was grinning like he had a plan.

Landon rolled his eyes and continued towards the lake.

2

"I guess I expected it to happen," Massie sobbed. "I mean, who the hell knew Kemp was a late-bloomer extra?" She wiped her wet face on her cardigan. "Certainly not me!"

Claire tried to soothe her, but Massie had reduced to blubbering and mumbling and staring into the water introspectively, then going off muttering about existentialism.

"What's the point of even living if bad things happen?" she demanded.

Claire sincerely hoped that was rhetorical. She was in no mood to engage in a philosophical debate.

"Listen, if you want we can both transfer to Leotaw down in Maine. Apparently it's the third best extra camp in the"—

Massie dismissed her suggestion with a wave of her hand. "No. I'm not going to run away from this. I have to solve it." She stood, took a deep breath, and began marching towards cabin 8.

Landon caught her half way there.

"Are you okay?"

Massie shook her head. "I just need a hug," she muttered without any forethought.

He frowned a little, but accepted her hug when she practically threw herself on him.

At that moment Derrick chose to be walking down the path to the like with his new jealousy-trigger—Nikki.

"Oh are you serious?" Derrick nearly shouted. "_Three guys_?"

Landon pulled away from the embrace. "Whoa, hey, this isn't anything!"

Massie felt an impulse to make Derrick angry—very angry.

Who was he to already be taking revenge on her—with an innocent nerdy girl like Nikki?

"Actually, it is," she said, and kissed Landon—aggressively, Landon reflected later.

"You're incorrigible!" Derrick snapped, and stomped off, Nikki trailing behind.

Massie was stunned that that word was within his intellectual grasps.

Landon pushed her away gently. "This is so _wrong_," he said.

"Oh please, Landon. Don't go all ethical on me now." She kissed him again.

This time he didn't stop her.

3

Kemp sat—rather _perched_—on a tree stump, his favorite avian companion, Ted, a falcon, perched beside him.

He sighed forlornly. "I was so excited, Ted." He looked at his friend earnestly. "I can't believe she has another boyfriend. And he's _Saskatchewanian._ Is that a threat do you think?" The bird preened its feathers silently. "Of course it is!" Kemp groaned melodramatically. "I mean isn't there supposed to be like, beautiful corn fields there or something? Is he a farm boy who lifts heavy things and knows how to plant a field?" He buried his face in his hands. "And how can I win Massie back if I've upset her?"

He invited Ted onto his arm. The bird climbed onto his arm and offered him a sympathetic expression. "Could you do me a favor, Ted?"

Ted stared blankly.

"I know this is downright mean, but I hate that farm boy with every fiber of my being. Would you mess with him a little?"

Although the bird didn't understand English, and if it did, it certainly wouldn't understand the colloquialisms Kemp used, but it knew what the spiteful, dark feeling Kemp was projecting indicated—and it grasped the image of the blonde boy its friend so passionately despised.

With a fierce squawk, the bird lifted into the air, its talons sharp and eager.

Kemp, the aspiring ornithologist, sat back down and waited for his bird friend to wreak havoc on his human enemy.

4

When Massie heard Derrick was in the infirmary, she suspected either Landon or Dempsey had gotten to him.

But certainly not Kemp—Kemp, the loving, harmless boy? Not him. Oh no. He couldn't hurt a fly—he couldn't hurt a dead fly! Well, no one can hurt a dead fly—it's dead. But in short, Kemp was as harmless as a goat (with its horns removed). But even goats can be conniving fiends. Massie heard from Claire that Derrick was attacked by a vicious, unprovoked falcon. She'd heard from Chad that Kemp's extra was communication with the avian species…she could put two and two together. Massie's goat was becoming quite the wrongdoer. And it was her fault. She'd tainted his innocence—inadvertently? Yes, but that was beside the point. Tainting the innocent is an inexcusable act. Incidentally, so was attacking someone via falcon.

Massie wandered into the infirmary after pacing outside for several minutes.

She envisioned a pleasant, heartbreaking hospital scene, like you see in the movies, when the woman sees her man in pain, perhaps on his death bed, and suddenly past trials are forgotten, and they heartily embrace, their contact made somewhat awkward by the hospital bed restraints…

"I'm here to see Derrick, he got attacked by a bird," Massie told the allegedly sassy infirmary nurse.

She glared sullenly at Masse through thick bifocals. "Actually, Miss Massie, Derrick has requested that you not be permitted into his room."

Massie's hospital scene slipped from her clutches. Her face burned.

"Um, are you sure about that?"

The nurse stared. "Quite," she replied after a hefty silence.

"Well, what room is he in, just so I can send him something nice?" Massie tried.

"Room 3," the nurse told her grudgingly.

Massie left the room hastily.

She wandered around the back of the building till she found the window of what she assumed to be room 3. She pushed open the window and climbed inside.

A first year camper was lying in the bed in her undergarments, reading Harry Potter and apparently suffering from chicken pox.

She screamed.

"Jesus Christ, sorry!" Massie shouted, scrambling out of the room before her ears started to bleed.

"Minor miscalculation," she muttered under her breath as she relocated Derrick's window.

Derrick was reading a People magazine, sniggering delightfully at the Jersey Shore cast interview when Massie pushed open the window and pulled herself in. He yelped and stuffed it under his sheets.

"You!" he hissed. "_Out! Out_!"

"Derrick, calm down," she whispered impatiently. "And quiet!"

"Get out of my room!" He said loudly.

He was bandaged all over. Massie swore under her breath. "Wow, Kemp really did a number."

"That bird was crazy!" Derrick cried incredulously. "It was trying to tear out my throat!"

"He wouldn't go that far…" Massie said unsurely.

"Well he's a rookie! He can't control himself! He's like a freaking bird controller in a diaper!"

"Oh stop it."

Derrick scowled at her. "Go away, Massie. Go have your little fun with the teleporter."

"I only kissed him because you were with Nikki."

"I was only with Nikki because you cheated on me."

"Yeah, during the year. You know I hate long distance relationships."

They bickered for a while longer.

Finally, the nurse came in to change Derrick's bandages and shouted at Massie to get out.

She also issued Massie a demerit point for sneaking into the room without the nurse's or the patient's consent.

"Shit," Massie said, realizing she'd nearly exceeded the demerit point limit.

"That's another point for using profane language!" the nurse screeched.

Massie growled an apology and stomped out of the infirmary.

5

"That was a terrible apology," Massie said later that night. "We just fought. Then that nurse came in and totally disrupted the peace."

"From what I hear," Landon said wisely, "it wasn't peaceful."

Massie looked at him. "We were getting there."

"I'm sure."

Is she even going to acknowledge the fact that we made out for eleven minutes and then she ran off, claiming she had to apologize? Landon thought, annoyed. I'm not some rebound guy, thank you. I have feelings.

Landon was more sensitive than he looked/seemed. That was partially what made him so adorable to Massie.

"And you know what's the worst?" Massie said.

"Oh?"

"They're not even worth it."

Landon smiled. "Really?"

"_You're_ worth it," she said silkily, inching closer. "I mean, not only are you much taller than both Derrick and Kemp," she said with a giggle, "you're also sweeter, smarter, and more powerful."

Landon's smile became a grin. "Nice to know."

Need the narrator even type the next sentence? I'm sure the audience has a fair idea of who will interrupt their pleasant exchange.

"Oh hey Landon," Dempsey said brightly.

He was standing over their table in a strangely daunting way. "Did a little research tonight." He looked meaningfully at Landon. "So, should I tell her, or will you?"

"Go the hell away," Landon growled.

"I will, then." Dempsey opened his mouth to reveal something Landon really did not want to be revealed.

Landon jumped up, snatched Dempsey's arm, and they both disappeared.

"Well shit," Massie said. She finished her meal in solitude.

_Reviews! _


	4. French Expedition

Urgent Author's Note: Watch it kids; Uncle Peregrine might have to discontinue this tale if the reviews are so scarce! The only reason I'm so concerned with reviews (or lack thereof) is because it's basically an indication of how many people read this story! I ain't gonna spend 30 minutes writing stories if only a few wonderful people are gonna read 'em.

1

Dempsey sat on a curb of a Parisian alleyway, annoyed and frightened. That damn Landon had teleported him all the way to Paris then disappeared after kneeing Dempsey in the stomach and laughing perversely. "Don't go away," he had said. "Or you'll miss your ride home." After he walked off towards the tower, Dempsey wandered through the streets for five hours then retired to an empty alleyway, hungry and worn and without a penny. Why should he wait for Landon to return? It wasn't as if he was going to.

After he wallowed in self-pity and tried to satisfy his empty stomach by gnawing on a stale stick of gum he'd found in his pocket, a well-dressed, affluent-seeming old woman approached him after emerging from an alleyway apartment entrance.

"_Bonjour_," she greeted him warily. The woman's name was Justine Rossat, and he was a wealthy Parisian aristocrat who'd been recently widowed. The inhabitant of the grungy apartment she'd been visiting was her good-for-nothing niece who'd been left a hefty sum of 10,000 dollars from her generous husband, whose will was about twenty pages long and included more then a hundred people.

"Hi," Dempsey mumbled noncommittally.

Madame Rossat realized at once that the boy was English, and immediately offered her silk gloved, delicate hand to him. "Come with me, _monsieur_," she said.

Dempsey glanced at the white-haired woman cautiously. After a moment's hesitation, he stood and followed her down the alley—he did not take her hand, as it was juvenile, and his dirty hands would surely ruin her pretty white gloves.

They stepped into a shiny red convertible and flew down the crowded streets of Paris, pleasant small talk exchanged while they drove.

"Are you lost?" she asked Dempsey.

"No," he lied. "Someone left me here. I don't know how to get home to America."

Madame Rossat understood some of this. Perhaps his school group had boarded a flight home and forgotten him? She decided they would have to visit her granddaughter, who was quite fluent in English, as she'd lived in England for much of her childhood.

Dempsey did not know where they were going, but he felt very relaxed in the presence of this maternal, wealthy, French lady.

When they arrived at Madame Rossat's granddaughter's home, Dempsey had fallen fast asleep in the passenger's seat. Madame Rossat smiled fondly at the boy and entered the house. She emerged minutes later with a pretty, red-haired high school junior named Elise. Elise examined Dempsey carefully, and then woke him gently with by prodding him with her finger.

He sat up sleepily, and Elise stared at him unblinkingly, as if retaining information.

Elise had a mind reading extra, and so the entire events of Landon, the teleportation, his aimless wandering through Paris, and his own extra, flowed into her mind freely.

A few hours later Dempsey had boarded a private jet (funded by the kind and sympathetic Madame Rossat) to Camp Lake Cross—accompanied by the mind reading Elise, who after a single call (in which she flaunted heartily her mind-reading capabilities) was admitted to the camp.

2

Landon returned at around midnight. A sudden, powerful gust of wind blew the windows open of Cabin 8 and Landon was standing in the center of the cabin. Then he collapsed.

Massie was helping him immediately. She dragged him out of the cabin into the forest and rested his limp body on a patch of moss.

She would ask about Dempsey's whereabouts when he fully gained consciousness.

A few minutes later Landon woke with a start and started coughing up blood.

Massie was caught between revulsion and horror.

"Landon! What's wrong?" she demanded frantically.

"Don't worry," he assured her; his tone was not at all assuring. "This is normal. I made two big jumps: there and back."

"_There_?" Massie echoed uneasily. Where exactly had he put Dempsey?

Landon wiped his bloodied mouth with a shaking hand. "I brought him to Paris," he said gravely. "I was feeling sick from the jump, so I had to go sit down somewhere. When I came back an hour later, he had disappeared…I looked everywhere, for hours. I figured he must've gotten help from someone." He paused to cough. "So I left."

Massie stared blankly at him. "You left Dempsey…in France."

"Paris," Landon corrected her with a weak smile.

Massie continued to stare. "My god."

"I'll go look for him when I'm better," he promised.

The next morning a jet plane holding two supposedly important passengers made its glorified landing at Lake Cross.

"Who is this?" Massie asked Claire and Cam. They shrugged, eyes glued to the magnificent machine that was making circles around the camp's landing ground.

When the plane landed, two passengers emerged: Dempsey, and a pretty red-haired girl carrying a white Chihuahua in her arms.

"I guess he found his way home," Landon said from behind her, impressed.

"And brought a friend," Massie added.

Chad hurried to the landing ground to shake Dempsey's hand and nod politely to his female companion. They talked a little, but neither Massie nor Landon could make out their words. Dempsey turned and pointed an accusing finger in Landon's direction.

"Uh-oh," Landon said.

Chad, red faced, started determinedly towards Landon, his hands balled into fists.

"I'm out," Landon announced, and he disappeared.

"That seems to happen often these days," Massie reflected out loud.

Cam and Claire only stared.


End file.
